


Fluffy Anne

by authoressjean



Series: The Fluffy Files [51]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-02
Updated: 2001-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10526148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authoressjean/pseuds/authoressjean





	

Spike was miserable. First, Dru had gone on and on about Angel, and how she missed the pillock. Then, she’d left Spike. Left him for a Chaos demon, at that. He shuddered. What had happened between them?

This is all that bloody Slayer’s fault, he thought as he stopped at a red light. He’d been driving aimlessly for several days now, not really caring where he ended up. He didn’t even know where he was now.

He spotted a small diner to his right and thought back to when he and Dru had killed the owner of another small diner and danced to the jukebox all night. He smiled wistfully at the memory. Ah, the good old days.

He parked in front of the diner and headed inside. Maybe they had a jukebox he could play that would remind him of that night. He could get something to eat, too.

Walking in, he found that there weren’t too many people there this time of night. A young couple was seated in the right corner, nuzzling each other. Spike felt a pang as he remembered a time when he and Dru used to do the same thing.

He took a seat and stared miserably at the table. He might as well stake himself.

He could feel someone approaching his table, and knew it would be a perky waitress, ready to take his order. “Are you ready to…oh no. Oh please no.”

Spike sat up straight, recognizing the voice immediately. Sure enough, the Slayer’s dismayed face met his eyesight. The two stared for a moment, shocked at seeing the other.

Then Spike began to chuckle. “Well, well, if it isn’t little miss Slayer. How’s the world been treatin’ you these days?”

Her nostrils flared. “I’m not the Slayer anymore,” she hissed. “It’s Anne now.”

If anything, this amused Spike even more. “Anne? What, didn’t like Buffy anymore?”

“I could kill you right now,” she snarled.

“You’d probably get fired, Buffy, for stakin’ a customer,” he said, using her real name just to annoy her.

It worked. “My name is Anne, not Buffy!” she said, looking ready to strangle him. “You shouldn’t even be here, Spike.”

“No! It’s not Spike now, it’s Spake! Spake I tell you!” Spike said, imitating Igor from ‘Young Frankenstein’. “And besides,” he said, returning to his normal voice. “You shouldn’t be here either, pet. Why exactly are you?”

“None of your business,” she said, pulling out her pad and pencil. “Do you really want to order something besides a person?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Don’t suppose you’d let me have a steak, extra rare?”

Buffy glared at him.

He sighed. “Fine. Make it a hot cocoa with lil’ extra marshmallows.”

She wrote it down and nodded, heading towards the kitchen. She stopped two tables down and asked the two men if they needed anything else.

“Just you, doll!” one said, while the other cackled.

Buffy turned to head towards the kitchen when the first one slapped her on her behind. She stopped, unclenched her fists slowly, and continued on while the men laughed.

Spike watched it all, shocked. She could’ve broken the guy’s arm, but didn’t? For some reason, the man’s crude behavior towards Buffy unsettled him.

Buffy returned a few minutes later, the cup in hand. She carefully avoided the men as they grinned at her lecherously. She had almost reached Spike’s table when she stopped, her gaze quickly becoming one of pain and sorrow.

Spike turned and followed her gaze. She was staring at the young couple he’d noticed earlier.

So not everything was all right on the poofter front. “Oi, hot cocoa?” he said, breaking her thoughts.

She started, then shook herself. “Sorry,” she mumbled, setting the cup down in front of him.

She was apologizing? “What’s wrong with you?” he asked incredulously.

Buffy frowned. “What?”

“You! You’re spacin’ out, apologizin’ to me, then lettin’ those wankers over there slap you ‘round!”

She sighed. “I’m not the Slayer anymore,” she said quietly. “I don’t care anymore. Buffy always been concerned about her image, but Anne doesn’t care.”

“Buffy has a backbone, and Anne’s putty in their hands.”

“That’s not true!” Buffy said, then sighed. “I have to go before I lose my job. Just…wave me over when you’re done,” she said wearily before heading off again.

Spike couldn’t believe it. What had happened to the spitfire Slayer from Sunnydale?

He sighed. Who was he to judge? He didn’t have any of his ‘spitfire’ either. Why had Dru left him? And for a Chaos demon?

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Buffy calling him. Only when she tapped his shoulder did he look up.

Her annoyed face turned to one of surprise, then sympathy at his obvious grief. “It’s almost closing time,” she said softly.

He nodded, only realizing then that she no longer had her apron on. “Headin’ home?” he asked.

She snorted. “Yeah, home,” she said bitterly.

He stood, digging through his pockets. Buffy shook her head. “Leave it. I’ll put it on my tab,” she said, pulling out her notebook and writing a quick note. She left it on the table next to his cup, and headed towards the door.

“Buffy,” he started.

“Anne,” she corrected.

“Thank you,” he said.

She turned, then, and after a few moments of silence, nodded once. “You’re welcome.” She frowned, as if just realizing something. “Where’s Drusilla?”

He cringed. “Gone,” he mumbled. “Left me for a Chaos demon.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up, surprised. She looked genuinely sorry. “Not your fault,” he said, following her outside.

She shook her head, chuckling ruefully. “Yeah, it is. If it hadn’t been for me, you and Dru would still be together, and Angel…” She swallowed, then shook herself. “Good night.” She turned and started walking.

“Oi, Slayer!” he called, suddenly desperate that she not leave.

She sighed. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“’Cause it’s who you are, and who you’ll be ‘till the day you die,” he said. “Face facts, luv: you’ll always be Buffy, the vampire Slayer. Get used to it.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to be,” Buffy retorted angrily.

Spike snorted. “Well, you’re not Anne! You made her up to escape Slayer life, but you never can! It’s who you are.”

Silence descended on the two, before Buffy asked, “What did you want before we launched into the name war?”

If vampires could blush, Spike would’ve been scarlet. “You walkin’ home?” he finally asked.

She nodded. “I’m about two, three miles down.”

“Lemme drive you there. It’s the least I can do, you payin’ my bill and all,” he said, cutting her off.

She paused, considering. “I won’t bite, promise,” Spike said, grinning.

Buffy chuckled. “Wouldn’t care if you did. Thanks,” she said, taking the passenger seat.

As Spike started the car, he looked over at her. “What’d you mean, you wouldn’t care if I bit you?”

She looked over at him like he’d taken one too many hits to the head. “I’m in LA working at a diner with a fake name. Does that give any indication that things aren’t all right in my world? Go right down this street.”

Spike stole a look at her as he continued driving. “Thought you would’ve been snuggled up with Angel at this moment.”

“Apparently not,” she murmured, looking out the window. “That’s the building right there.”

He looked over, surprised. It was a dingy apartment building that looked in serious need of repair. “There?”

“Don’t start,” she warned, opening her car door.

He reached out and closed her door, then turned to her. “Doesn’t your mum send you money?”

“She doesn’t know where I am,” Buffy said, trying to push his hand away from the handle. “Now let me out.”

“You ran away?!?” he asked.

“Yes! I couldn’t deal with everything back in Sunnydale, so I ran away! Satisfied?”

Silence reigned in the car. Spike pulled his hand away from the handle. “This really LA?” he asked.

Buffy raised her eyebrow. “You don’t know what city you’re in?”

“I’ve been drivin’ for days, not carin’ where I go.”

“Yeah, it’s LA. Not the nicer parts of it, but it’s LA.”

Silence. Buffy opened her car door, then turned to look at him. “Where are you staying?”

He looked up, confused. “What?”

“Where are you staying? You know, for the night?”

“Oh. My car.”

Buffy shook her head. “Just park it here. You can stay with me for tonight. Besides, there’s a butcher’s not far from here, and you look like you could use a little more then a hot cocoa to fill you up.”

He nodded. “Thanks.” He stopped, frowning. “You realize how civil we’re being with each other?”

There was a pause. “You try anything funny tonight, I’ll stake you.”

“And you say you’re not a Slayer.”

< \--- >

Spike looked around. The apartment was as tiny and as drab as he thought it would be. There was a bed, a small loveseat, a table with one chair, and a small kitchen. The bathroom was shared with everyone else in the building.

Buffy’d set him up on the bed, saying she’d sleep in the loveseat. He’d refused, a part of William still clinging to gentlemanly behavior. He’d offered to take the loveseat instead, saying that it would be more comfortable then his car, and Buffy had said that was even more reason for him to take the bed. “Besides, I never sleep anyway,” she’d said, and that had been the end of that.

She’d left 15 minutes ago to get some blood for him, and by the jangling of keys at the front door, she was back. Sure enough, she came in, threw the keys into a small basket by the door, and headed to the kitchen. In her hand was a grocery bag.

“Why are you doin’ this?” he asked, as she poured blood out of the packet and into a mug.

She sighed, placing the mug in the microwave. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Because I feel guilty? I mean, it’s my fault you and Drusilla are…you know.”

“Not yours or mine,” he said decidedly. “Hers. She wanted Angel, and couldn’t have him.”

“If she stakes herself, she can,” Buffy mumbled.

Spike frowned. “What?”

Buffy sighed, pulling the mug out and handing it to him. “Let me explain,” she said, taking her braids out. “After you left the house, my mom started into me, saying some things that really hurt. I told her I had to leave, save the world and all, and she told me that if I left, I couldn’t come back. So I left. My best friend was put in the hospital, and my Watcher was tortured by Angelus, so I have no idea if either one of them is okay. Then, the principal expelled me, and blamed me for the murder of the second Slayer, Kendra.”

“Dru killed her,” Spike offered.

Buffy snorted. “Try telling that to the cops. Anyway, I’m wanted for her murder now, and then I had the final fight with Angelus, except when I was about to shove him into Acathla…” She swallowed before continuing. “Somehow, he got his soul back, so I didn’t send Angelus to Hell, I sent…”

“Angel,” Spike finished for her. “Bloody ‘ell.”

Buffy nodded. “That’s why I’m here,” she said shakily. “Sunnydale was just too much.” Before he could say anything, however, Buffy stood. “I should get ready for bed,” she said, grabbing her pajamas. “Make yourself comfortable.” With that, she headed out the door to the public bathroom.

Spike sat there for a moment, digesting what she’d just told him. Those were all wonderful reasons to leave, certainly, but knowing Sunnydale, the cops probably closed the case. He knew that her Watcher and friend were probably fine, and her mom would forgive her and more then likely treat her like a princess for the week. That only left Angel.

The poof wasn’t worth all this grief, though. He could tell her that right now. Looking around the apartment again, he knew what he had to tell her.

He had just removed his shoes and duster when she came back in, her diner outfit in her hands. She avoided his gaze as she set her folded suit on the table. While she was pulling out a blanket for the loveseat, Spike said, “You should go back.”

Buffy stopped, then turned around, her face blank. “What do you mean?” she asked warily.

“You should go back to Sunnydale,” he said. “I mean it.”

“Why?” Her voice sounded strangled.

“Your mum is worried out of her mind, your friends are fine, and the cops have cleared your name by now, if your mum hasn’t!”

“You don’t know that!” Buffy said. “Besides, what about Angel?”

Spike snorted. “Don’t need him. Trust me when I say he’s not worth it, Slayer.”

“Anne,” she said, exasperated. “My name is Anne.”

“Right,” Spike said, hopping up onto the bed. “’Night Buffy.”

He could sense rather then see her scowl as she shut off the light. She shifted around in the loveseat, then stopped, and the room fell quiet.

Two hours later, a police siren woke Spike up. Looking over at Buffy, he saw that she was still asleep. Why did she do this to herself? She didn’t have to stay, and yet she did, as if she were punishing herself by staying away from her friends and family.

A noise caught his attention, and he looked over at Buffy again, only to see her face twisted in pain.

“No…sorry…so sorry…Angel, no…please, no…don’t…don’t leave me…”

Spike could feel his heart wrenching in sympathy for the girl he had once called his mortal enemy. As quietly as he could, he walked over to the loveseat and shook her as her motions became more violent.

She woke with a start, then looked up at Spike, tears filling her eyes. “He left me. He said he hated me and he left me…”

He pulled Buffy into his arms as she cried. “Shh, it’s okay pet. Better off without the wanker anyway.”

“I had to kill him,” she said suddenly. “To save the world. I killed him…Angel, I’m so sorry…”

He picked her up and carried her over to the bed, setting her down as gently as he dared. He laid down beside her, and found his arms full of a teary-eyed Slayer.

Within a few minutes, both warriors were asleep.

< \--- >

When Spike woke up, Buffy was putting her nametag on. “Work, I s’pose?” he asked, sitting up.

She turned at the sound of his voice, nodding. “I really need this job, and I can’t afford to make mistakes.”

“You all right now?”

She frowned. “What?”

“Last night, what with the nightmares and all.”

Her face flushed, and she turned back to the mirror. “Fine,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

He sighed. “Buffy…”

“Your blood’s in the fridge; just put it in the microwave when you want it.” She opened the door, and was about to close it behind her when she stopped and turned, giving him a poignant glare. “And it’s Anne, not ‘Buffy’,” she said, shutting the door behind her.

Spike sighed again. He should pack up her stuff, put it in his car, and drive the silly bint back to Sunnydale himself. He decided to not risk the chance of grabbing a cross or something from one of the drawers, and went to warm up his blood.

< \--- >

Around mid-afternoon, Spike couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his duster and headed to the diner, thankful it was cloudy. He figured annoying the Slayer would be better then counting the tiles in her kitchen (there were 67) or the threads in her carpet (he’d given up after 354).

What bothered him was that he didn’t really want to annoy her, so much as be around her. Also, he wanted to keep an eye out for the two men from yesterday. If they came around and tried anything again, he’d make sure they’d leave her alone.

He hurried to the diner, and found that it was packed. Buffy was running from table to table, and she looked tired. The two men were nowhere in sight.

He headed over to her where she had just finished taking an order. “Looks tight in here, Buffy.”

She whirled on him, her face tight with anger. “Stop. Calling. Me. That. Read the name tag, Spike! It’s Anne.”

Spike could feel his own anger growing. “Stop kiddin’ yourself! You’ll always be Buffy!”

Several heads turned to watch the two argue. Buffy could feel their eyes on her, and flushed with embarrassment. “Why are you even here, Spike? Just leave, before I seriously pound you.”

Spike was almost snarling when he said, “Fine. Just came ‘cause I cared ‘bout you and couldn’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout those two men, but if you’re so tough, then I’ll go!” And with that, he stormed out of the diner, leaving a shocked Buffy behind him.

He hadn’t gotten far when he heard a noise. Frowning, he followed the noise into a dark building not too far down from the diner. He found himself in a dimly lit room, with tiles everywhere: ceiling, walls, and floor. Cutting the room in half was a dark stream of water.

He peered at it, the noises getting louder as he approached it. What was it?

He didn’t have too much time to think about it, however, before something came down on his head. He felt himself falling through the water, and someone calling out to him…was that Buffy? He landed on hard ground and slipped into unconsciousness.

 

< \--- >

Spike awoke with a splitting headache. Groaning, he looked around and found that he was in a dark prison cell. He also discovered that he wasn’t alone.

Buffy lay on the ground next to him, blood dripping from her forehead. She was unconscious for the time being.

Spike rolled his eyes. Where the bloody ‘ell were they?

“Hell,” said a voice, before he realized that he must have said his question out loud.

Spike looked in the direction of the voice, and found a rather unattractive demon in front of him. “It’s actually one of the smaller dimensions, granted, but it’s Hell,” the demon said, giving him a fake smile. “I’m Ken. You’re our slaves now.”

Spike stared at him for a moment, before doubling over, laughing. Ken frowned. This was not expected.

“We? Slaves?” Spike said when he could talk. “You’re out of your bloody mind. Good joke, though, Kenny.”

“It’s Ken,” the demon said automatically. “Don’t call me that.”

Spike rolled his eyes. Another name war?

Ken snapped his fingers, and two demons emerged from the shadows. “Take these two out and get them working,” he said. The demons nodded and headed for the cell. Ken smiled at Spike. “She’ll die quickly enough, but he’ll last a long time. Vampires usually do.”

Spike snarled. “Don’t think so, mate,” he said, spitting the last part out.

“Nobody will notice you missing. A day on Earth is hundreds of years here.”

The demons opened the cell, and kicked Spike back down as he tried to launch himself at his captors. He was quickly subdued, and found himself with his hands chained in front of him.

The first demon watched over him as the second demon headed to Buffy. Spike cringed as it kicked her in the stomach, causing her to moan and open her eyes. It pulled her to her feet, then pushed her out of the cell.

Spike followed after, and soon the two were walking side by side. Or rather, stumbling side by side. Buffy swayed, then bumped into Spike. “Sorry,” she mumbled, then turned to look at him. “Spike?”

Spike offered her a small smile. “That’s my name, pet. Don’t wear it out.”

She chuckled softly, swaying again. “You got knocked out by one of the uglies, and I followed you in to…” She stumbled, falling to her knees.

The first demon pulled out his club, but Spike quickly pulled Buffy to her feet. “Gotta stay up,” he whispered.

Buffy nodded. “My head hurts.”

“You’ll be all right.” He looked over at her, frowning. “Why’d you follow me in?”

Buffy gazed down at the ground. “To save you. You’re the only one that cares about me anymore.”

Spike was about to protest when they were both rudely shoved to the ground. Buffy cringed, and Spike started complaining about his duster getting dirty. He looked up, getting a good view of the area.

There were hundreds of people, all wearing sackcloth and shoveling coal, digging, pulling, pushing…it was all typical slave labor.

Several other humans joined the two, each one looking around terrified. Oh good; new recruits for Hell.

The second demon lined them up, splitting Spike and Buffy up. Spike was placed at the beginning of the line, and Buffy was about five people down.

The first demon headed over to Spike, his club bouncing dangerously in his scaly hands. Spike didn’t look impressed. “What’s your name?” the demon asked gruffly.

Spike blinked, slightly confused. Then he grinned, saying, “Spike, though you’ll probably come up with something not as…”

Buffy gasped as the club hit Spike on his skull. He fell to his knees, his head throbbing. “What’s your name?” the demon asked again.

Spike looked up and managed a wobbly smirk. “Want it more formal? William the Bloody.”

Buffy watched in horror as the club was brought down twice more. Spike fell to the ground and didn’t move.

The demon moved on to the next person, a shaking boy. “What’s your name?”

“No one,” the boy whispered.

This seemed to please the demon, and he moved on to the next person. Buffy wasn’t paying attention, though. She was watching the limp form of Spike lying on the ground. Something inside her began to burn. She hadn’t felt this way since the last fight with Angelus…

She realized the demon was now in front of her. She turned to stare at him, as he growled, “What’s your name?”

Buffy didn’t answer. Instead, she looked over at Spike, who had managed to push himself up. He was watching her with confusion in his eyes.

Spike didn’t understand why she was staring at him like that. He could’ve sworn that there was a fire alight in her eyes, but it was probably his eyes playing tricks on him. And why wasn’t she answering? All she had to say was ‘No one’ and she was safe.

Buffy turned back to the demon, who was growing impatient. “What’s your name?”

Buffy stared at him, then gave him her brightest smile. “Hi, I’m Buffy. The vampire Slayer?” He stared at her, surprised, giving her enough time to land a roundhouse kick to his head. The second demon came forward, and she landed a few punches before swiftly snapping his neck.

Spike gaped as she grabbed the keys from the first demon’s belt, then headed over to him. She began to unlock his chains, telling the terrified people to try and free the others.

“There’s…there’s a control room that can lock or unlock all the chains,” one man offered.

“Then head there. Take a few people with you. Here,” she said, tossing him the club. “Anyone gives you problems, give it right back.”

The man nodded, and soon Buffy and Spike found themselves alone. Already, Spike could hear alarms ringing.

The chains fell to the ground, and Buffy helped him to his feet. “Can you stand?”

“Too late to ask now,” Spike grumbled, already on his feet. “You realize you just called yourself Buffy, and not Anne, or ‘No one’. What changed your mind?”

Buffy grinned. “Buffy’s got a backbone. Besides,” she said, her grin falling, “I’m Buffy. It’s who I’ll always be. I can’t run away from it anymore.”

He squeezed her hand. “You made the right decision. C’mon, don’t fancy stayin’ in Hell for much longer.”

It seemed that the man had found the control room, for chains were falling left and right, and people were making mad dashes towards the exits. The demons were overwhelmed.

Spike started following the people, but Buffy was headed the other way. “Where are you goin’?” he yelled.

“Get everyone out!” she yelled back, ignoring his question.

“Buffy, c’mon!”

She shook her head. “I have to shut this place down. Slayer, remember? Can’t just leave it like this. Don’t worry; I’ll be right behind you as soon as I can.” With that, she turned and ran.

Spike didn’t like the situation, but had to agree with her. She had a job to do. He headed after the people, helping a few elderly ones that had tripped along the way.

Once everyone was out, he realized that there were no demons following them. Strange; he’d seen more then thirty trying to hold the people back before. They couldn’t all have been trampled…

His eyes widened with realization. Buffy. He started forward to find her and found a knife at his throat.

“Don’t think about it, vampire,” Ken hissed in his ear. “Now, we’ll make the Slayer pay.”

< \--- >

 

Buffy had thrown a few tools into the machines, and a few minutes later, everything had come to a grinding halt. She grinned. Bringing down Hell was fun.

Her thoughts were interrupted when someone jumped her from behind. She struggled with the demon, and pulled a sword from his belt. She finished him off, and found a least twenty more waiting for her. “Bring it on, boys,” she said, twirling the knife. “I’ve been spoiling for a fight ever since I left the Hellmouth.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when they all lunged forward. She took two down with her knife, and swiped an axe from the third demon. With her two weapons, she managed to take down all of the demons.

“Slayer!”

She turned at the sound of Ken’s voice, and found him standing on a ledge above her. He had a knife in his left hand, and he was holding it against a certain blonde vampire’s throat. One slip of the wrist, and Spike was dust.

Spike’s eyes widened as he looked behind her. He tried to shout a warning, but Ken pressed the blade against the vampire’s neck.

Suddenly Buffy found herself face-first on the ground. Her hands were pulled behind her back, and three demons hauled her to her feet. She struggled, but Ken merely shook his head.

“Humans were not supposed to fight back,” he said.

He’d almost pulled his hand away from Spike’s throat. “Why not? You’re all just bullies,” she said, wincing when one demon started twisting her arm.

Her words had the effect she wanted, however. Ken pulled his arm away from Spike and stepped forward, forgetting about the vampire. “We are not bullies. We are here to establish a firm, solid landing in the jump to new slave ideas, and…” He screamed as Spike pushed him over the edge. Ken landed on the ground in a heap.

“Gotta agree. Quite a solid landin’,” Spike said, looking down at the body.

Buffy growled at the pun as she flipped the demons off of her. Spike jumped down gracefully, disposing of one demon for her. “Can we go now?” Spike asked, impatiently.

Buffy nodded. “Thanks for sending him off,” she said, nodding towards Ken.

“Thanks for gettin’ the knife away from my neck,” Spike replied, grinning.

Buffy started forward, but stopped at a small moan from Ken. She grabbed a nearby club and headed over to him. “Hey Ken; wanna see my impression of Gandhi?”

With that, she brought the club down on his head. There was resounding crack, and Ken was no more.

Spike walked over to her, a disbelieving look on his face. “Gandhi?”

“You know, if he was really pissed off,” she said, tossing the club next to Ken. The two walked out of Hell hand in hand.

 

< \--- >

 

Spike watched her from his position on the loveseat. “What happens now?” he asked.

“Well, the dimension is closed for good, and the apartment here is paid off for another three weeks. There’s a young couple that needs a home, so they can have this place, if they want it.” She wiped down the counter, then rinsed out the rag.

He began to smile. “You’re goin’ home.”

“Yeah, I am.” His smile was contagious, and soon she was grinning madly. “I’m looking forward to it more then I thought.”

“You’ll go back to the Slayin’ and all, I take it?”

“It’s a tough job; somebody’s got to do it.”

Their grins fell as they realized that as soon as she began Slaying again, they would go back to being mortal enemies.

There was silence for a few minutes, before Buffy cleared her throat. “So, um, where are you headed?”

Spike shrugged. “Not really sure, to be honest.”

“So you’re not heading back to Drusilla.”

Spike looked up at her like she’d gone mad. “Are you insane? Of course not! Why would you think that?”

Buffy looked away, pretending to clean something on the small kitchen window. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

Spike leaned over and caught a glimpse of her face. She was blushing. “When you headin’ back?” Spike said, trying not to grin.

“I’ll probably take the next bus out. I think it’s tomorrow morning; I’ll double check the time chart.”

“Don’t you want to get home sooner?”

She looked over at him then. “Yes, but how exactly is that possible?”

Spike looked down at his shoes. Oh boy. How’d he get himself into this mess? “You could…ah…well, car’s got room, and…I’ll probably be passin’ Sunnydale myself…”

“Are you…offering me a ride?” Buffy asked.

Spike sighed. “Yeah. I’ll get you to Sunnydale, if you want.” He looked up at her and was surprised to see that she was pondering the idea.

“I won’t bite, promise,” Spike said, echoing an earlier conversation.

“I’d stake you if you tried,” Buffy said automatically, then grinned.

Spike laughed outright at that. “That’s the Slayer I know and love!” He stopped, unable to believe that he’d actually just said that.

From the look on Buffy’s face, she couldn’t believe it, either. Her mouth would open, close, then open again. “Nice fish imitation,” he said weakly, hoping to get her mind off of his previous statement.

It didn’t work. She walked over until she was standing right in front of him. “You…you love me?”

Spike tried to scoff. “Please, Slayer, you think I meant that? I was just…”

He didn’t get any further. Her lips crashed onto his, and for a few moments, he forgot everything.

Finally she pulled away, needing air. He was also panting heavily, though he technically didn’t need to.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

He frowned, confused. “For what?”

“For helping me find my backbone again. And,” she said, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead, “for showing me that love deserves a second chance.”

Spike smiled. “You’re welcome. Now, I say we head back to glorious old Sunnydale.”

“You up to it?”

He laughed. “Luv, we’ve been to Hell and back. I think I can handle anything with you by my side.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said, before leaning in to kiss him again.

 

THE END


End file.
